


The List

by NextToSomething



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Bachelorette Party, F/M, Fun, Gay Bar, Romance, scavenger hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2198502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextToSomething/pseuds/NextToSomething
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toni hates bar crawls, but when she runs into an unexpected stranger who is happy to help her on her silly treasure hunt, she realizes her sore feet might be worth the trouble after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The List

**Author's Note:**

> **I swear I am still working on the next chapter of And Long Past Midnight. It will be posted this month.**
> 
> This silly little fic came along after a silly little bachelorette party and an even sillier little dream. The fluff is all over the place, and I am very sorry about that. We'll get back to our regularly scheduled angst soon. Deepest apologies to those who know the town of Shreveport, LA better than I. Most of this is product of Google Maps and Yelp! reviews. Thanks to [startraveller776](http://archiveofourown.org/users/startraveller776/pseuds/startraveller776) for all the moral support. *squeezles*
> 
> I'd also like to apologize to Tom for assuming his bar preferences. And to Toni for her shoe preferences.

Toni hated bar crawls. She really did. She enjoyed drinking, and socializing, and getting all dolled up for no one in particular. She loved to dance and she was a really fun person, honestly.

It’s the crawling that was the issue. If Toni could just convince these girls that staying put could be just as much fun as traipsing all over Shreveport, they might not be so quick to chorus “Debbie Downer” in her general direction. She didn’t understand why one drink in seven different bars was supposed to be more fun than seven drinks in one bar. _Okay, maybe not seven._

Her feet hurt like a sonofabitch was the truth--and she really liked this bar.

She leaned up against the gritty brick face of the current stop, Central Station Inc., and pulled the list from her back pocket. She was probably the only member of the bachelorette party that cared much about the eclectic scavenger hunt the maid of honor had planned as a throughline of the night. Other than the enthusiastic maid of honor, of course. But as Toni only knew the bride, Amy, and even then, only from work, she felt acutely out of place in the excited group of women.   _What happened to just inviting the bridal party?_ Focusing on ticking the ridiculous tasks and items off the scavenger hunt list gave her an outlet for her uncomfortable energy.

She’d completed about half the list so far. She was excited to turn in her collection of pictures at the end of the night. She knew it would probably surprise the rest of the party to learn that she wasn’t particularly shy when it came to approaching people. She found, as her new collection of overexposed selfies with multiple strangers indicated, that people are pretty accommodating when you tell them you are on a scavenger hunt.

As she was considering her next mission, a tall man in a suit brushed past her, cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Oh, come on,” he pleaded into the phone. “It isn’t all that late.”

He spoke in a deep, affecting English accent that made Toni momentarily abandon the perusal of her list. He pressed a finger into his opposite ear, blocking out the ruckus bleeding from the bar onto the street.

“I don’t know what street it’s on; the cab just sort of dropped me here. Hold on--”   

The man turned to face Toni completely and she realized with a start that she recognized his face. She was used to running into people she knew in Shreveport, having lived here most of her life, leaving only for college. But she recognized this guy from the movies, and that was a surprise.

He was searching the building face for an address or something, Toni realized, and she cleared her throat.

“Franklin Street,” she said, loud enough to overpower the noise from the bar, but not quite loud enough to make it through his plugged ear.

“What was that?” he said, turning his attention to her and bringing his finger down from his ear. _Oh, this was cool. Giving directions to a celebrity._

“We’re on Franklin Street, next to the train tracks,” she repeated.

The man, _Tom?_ , raised his eyes up to the face of the building again, nodding his head.

“Franklin Street, next to the train tracks,” he said. “Just tell the cabbie the name of the bar. There can’t be too many of this type in small-town Southern America.”

Toni smiled. _Wasn’t that the truth?_

His eyes came back to her and he smiled briefly, mouthing ‘thank you’ as he continued to nod for the benefit of no one but himself, as whoever was on the phone could not actually see him.

“Well, think about it. It’s fun. There’s going to be a drag show,” he said, and Toni looked back to her list. She was still listening, that was her right, but she didn’t have to keep staring at the guy.

“Yes. Ye--That’s fine. Bye.” He hung up his phone but didn’t immediately rush back inside. Toni stared hard at the piece of paper, willing herself not to glance up.

“Thanks again,” he said, and Toni figured it was alright to look at him again.

“Yeah, no problem,” she answered and he smiled, more broadly this time.

_Whoa._

He looked down to pocket his cell phone in the jacket of his suit and an idea occurred to her.

“Um, hey.”

He looked up, his face a little tighter than before. Not quite pained, but definitely like he was trying to be polite in paying attention.

_Oh._

“So, look, I don’t want to ruin your night or anything by like, asking for your autograph or anything--”

His face fell and he sighed. He started patting his pockets. “Have you got a pen? I don’t--”

“What, no! Hold on.” Toni pushed her glasses back onto the top of her head, pulling her long black bangs out of her face and making the world just slightly blurry. “I--uh. Forget it.”

He smiled again, less polite than before, but definitely less genuine than when he thought she didn’t recognize him. “No, it’s fine, I don’t mind. If you can find a pen, I’ll wait.”

“No, it’s just--” She walked over to him, scavenger hunt list outstretched. He stiffened a little, and Toni seriously hated how uncomfortable she was probably making him. She stopped. “You know what? No--I’m sorry. Never mind. I hope you have a good night.”

She turned to walk back inside, feeling like a jerk for bothering him.

“No, it’s really fine!” he said, stepping forward. “I didn’t mean to be--”

Toni turned to out-polite him, “--I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m really sorry. I’m just doing this scavenger hunt and--”

“--just been a long night and I didn’t really hear--Wait. What?” he asked.

Toni rubbed the bridge of her nose where her glasses used to be and said, “I’m doing a scavenger hunt for this bachelorette party.”

“I--oh. Okay?” He looked confused and Toni just wanted to go back inside. _How long had she been out here, now?_

“See?” She held the list out again, careful to not encroach on his space. He sidled right up next to her, however, and looked over her shoulder. “We’re supposed to check these things off and--”

“Which of these was supposed to be me?” he asked, cutting her off.

She grimaced, realizing the ridiculous things listed.

**_Get a picture with a silver fox._ **

**_Get a picture with a hottie._ **

**_Get a guy to give you his tie._ **

**_Prom photo._ **

“Er--I hadn’t really thought about it. I just thought I might get extra points if one of my photos was with a famous person.”

“Well, I hope you don’t consider me a silver fox,” he said, smiling.

“What? No! I--hold on.” She dug a pen out from her small purse and made a checkmark. “I actually already did that one.” She made another check. “And that one.”

“Let me see,” he said. He looked interested now, an intense focus to his face as he scanned the list. She handed it over to him and pulled out her phone to show him the different photos. He took the phone from her hand and swiped through. It made her nervous in case he swiped too far--there were too many pictures of her dog on her phone and he didn’t need to see that.

“Is this that one?” he asked after a few more swipes. The picture was of Toni and some random guy from two bars ago, turned to the side with his arms wrapped loosely around her waist. _**Prom photo.**_

“Yeah, let me mark it off--”

He pulled the phone back.

“You can do better than that, darling. Don’t boys usually wear suits to prom?”

_Boy, he was standing close. And he was so tall!_

“Well, tuxes. But, yeah.”

“He’s wearing a polo.”

“It’s got a collar,” she said, defensive.

“That it does. A popped collar, even,” he chided.

He handed the phone back to her, looking closer at the list.  “I’ll wager we can knock out almost the entire list between the two of us.”

_That was a surprise_.

“Seriously, you don’t have to. I just wanted--”

“Nonsense. You’re winning, aren’t you?” His eyes were on her face, really looking her over. He was smiling, that first real smile from when he was on the phone.

“Well, yeah.” She couldn’t help smiling back.

“I like winning.”

“Then, come on.” She made to reach for his hand, not really thinking about it. Public school and college in Little Rock had made her a southerner, through and through, and she was always more touchy-feely than her Japanese parents knew what to do with. He went with it though, and let her haul him to the sidedoor of the bar.

“Wait.” He was looking over the list again. “We can get these two checked off in one go.” He pointed.

She nodded, and, without another word, jumped lightly onto his back. Using the jamb of the door, he etched a crude check next to _**Get a piggyback ride from a guy**_. as she one-handedly pulled up the camera on her phone. He carefully pocketed the list and she handed down the phone as he hitched her higher on his back.

“I’m Tom, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m Toni. You’ve got longer arms. You take the picture.”

He stretched his phone hand out ( _Doesn’t even have to use the front-facing camera. He’s a pro._ ) and snapped the photo. He angled the screen up to her so she could check the photo. Her pin-straight hair was sticking up in crazy tufts from behind her pushed-back glasses, but her red lipstick was flawless. He was ridiculously photogenic so the picture, overall, was pretty cute.

“I got one of the signs for the bar in frame, do you think that counts for _**Get carried into a bar.**_?” he asked, studiously referring back to the list.  

“Totally.”

He walked through the door with her still his back for honesty’s sake, and gingerly lowered her to her feet once inside.  _Ouch ouch ouch._

“What’s next?” she half-yelled over the dance music, ignoring her aching feet, as it didn’t seem like he was going to let her hold on to the list anymore.

“Let’s get you a better prom photo, then I’ll give you my tie.” He had a hold on her wrist now, and was hauling her through the crowd with a fair amount of expertise. Toni was trying not to smile like an idiot. This was not how she had expected her night to go and she was enjoying the unexpected quite a bit. She wondered vaguely where the others in her party of women had gotten off to, but she wanted to see how this whole celebrity-in-a-suit-that-cost-more-than-her-car-thing would turn out even more.

“Wait here,” he said, close to her ear so she could hear over the music. She bit her lip and nodded, entirely too willing to comply. He was leaning over the bar to yell something at the bartender. He was motioning back to her, though she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“Hey, Toni!” Hillary, or maybe Valerie--Amy’s cousin--bounced into her line of vision. “I think we’re gonna scoot on over to the Phoenix!”

Toni leaned around Hillary/Valerie to get a look at Tom. The bartender was nodding and motioning to the back wall of glittering liquor bottles.

“Toni?” Hillary/Valerie asked.

“Yeah!” she said automatically, tearing her eyes back to Hillary/Valerie.

“I said we’re gonna scoot. You coming?”

“Yeah--I mean no.” She glanced over to Tom, who was coming back her way. “Yeah, I’ll catch up in a few,” she amended, still distracted. “I just saw someone I know from UALR--Hey!” She waved excitedly to Tom and held up a finger. “I’ll be there in a second!” She turned back to the girl. “Tell Amy I’m right behind y’all. Promise.”

“Uh, okay.” Hillary/Valerie turned to where Toni had been waving, but Tom had turned back to the bartender. _Thank goodness._  “See you in a bit, I guess.”

Toni nodded, looking over to Tom again, and once she had thought to return the salutation, Hillary/Valerie had gone. Toni pushed her way over to the bar, but Tom was already motioning to the far wall.

“They’re going to let us use the glass wall as our prom backdrop. And I’ve convinced Steve to kiss you,” he said as he gently guided her through the throng of people.

Toni turned bewildered eyes back at him.

“It’s number 13 on the list! _**Kiss a bartender**_ ,” he said, quickly.

“You know,” Toni clipped as Tom hoisted her over the bar to where Steve was waiting, hands outstretched to help her over, “I was doing fine before you jumped on board as my sidekick.” She turned to Steve. “Thanks.”

“No problem, honey. Anything for the class of 2014.” He winked as he turned to offer a hand to Tom as he clamored over. _That guy was all legs._

“I told you,” Tom said, his hand coming to the small of her back to guide her over to the wall of bottles. The warmth of his hand bleeding through the thin material of her shirt sent a thrill through her. He pulled her into her arms, imitating the age-old prom pose: her back to his front with his arms looped around her waist, hands resting on her hip. Though she was definitely leaning into him more than she had leaned into her original senior prom date, and Tom’s grip on her was much more snug than the chaperones might have liked. He leaned down to her ear as Steve was centering the shot. “I like winning.”

His voice was deep and clear even in the din of the bar. Everything to this point had felt fun and exciting. The closeness of his mouth and the vibration of his voice against her back, well. Definitely still exciting, and certainly still fun. But the sort of fun she hadn’t expected this night to be.

He straightened, and pulled her even more firmly into him as Steve yelled, “Smile and say, ‘ovaries!’”

Toni laid her hands primly over Tom’s as her hip (though she felt anything but prim) and half-laughed, half-yelled, “Ovaries!”

Tom just laughed behind her as the camera flashed.

“Perfect!” Steve called. “Now come give me some sugar, honey!”

Toni held the phone this time, though she had to use the front-facing camera, as she gave Steve a big, smacking kiss to the cheers of the crowd. Red smudged the guy’s upper lip as they looked at the resulting photo. Tom was still laughing.

Toni felt like she could run a marathon.

“Okay! What’s next!” she yelled as she pulled Tom by both hands over to climb back across the bar. He nearly tossed her over, his adrenaline obviously pumping as high as hers.

“We need a condom,” he answered as he landed next to her, straightening the jacket of his suit before making a beeline through the mob. The strobing lights and pulsing bass line of the song was disorienting and she lost sight of him almost immediately.

Diving into the push of people, Toni grabbed him by the back of his belt to try to keep up.

“Whoa, buddy. Excuse me?”

“Down, girl.” He flashed her a smile from over his shoulder as he continued to cut a path. “It’s on the list. And if experience serves me right, this is the kind of place that will have a condom machine in the men's room.”

“How often do you go to gay clubs?”

He laughed, pausing to look around. He was taller than most of the crowd, and she was noticeably shorter than the entirety of the crowd.

“How often do you?” he asked, not looking down at her. Feigning indifference.

_Smooth._

“I’m straight enough for our purposes here tonight, don’t worry.”

He laughed, a more nervous gesture than anything else. She wondered how many times women actually came onto him.

“There’s the loo!” he said, pointing. Still gripping his belt, she followed as he made his way to where he had indicated. “I’ll be right back.”

“You didn’t answer me about how often you frequent gay bars!” she yelled as he pushed the door to the restroom open.

Turning smoothly on his heel, he two-stepped a surprisingly coordinated little dance, complete with turns and necessary lip biting and swirling hips. He winked as he slapped his thighs in finality.

“Gay bars have the best music.”

He boogied off into the bathroom, leaving Toni to bite her own lip against the too eager smile his dancing was evoking.

She was developing a serious crush on her evening’s surprise entertainment. He was cute enough, _very cute,_ with a voice that made her tremble. But she liked his sense of fun the best. She could spend the whole night adventuring with him. She was enjoying herself so much, she almost forgot to feel bad about not following the rest of the girls to the next nightclub. Almost.

When he emerged from the bathroom, the obnoxious gold wrapper of the condom winking in the light as he held it up in triumph, she smiled less brightly than before.

“Do you think that a picture of you in my tie would be enough for the scavenger hunt, or do you need to keep it?” He was holding the list in one hand as his other was loosening the tie. “I only ask because it’s one of my favorites. I would be willing to sacrifice it to the cause, of course. Needs must.”

“Um, actually…” She trailed off as he looped the tie over her neck and tried not to shudder as his fingers brushed her skin when he pulled her hair out from the loop. She failed horribly and his fingers were definitely lingering. “I, uh, should probably go.”

Having pulled her hair free, he trailed his fingers from her neck to her collarbone, his eyes studying his hands’ paths. She stepped closer to him, leaning into the feel of his exploring touch.

His eyes moved from his hands to her mouth as his tongue flitted out to wet his lips.

“I’m sorry, darling. What did you say?”

“I--mmm...” She raised her hands to his hips, needing solid contact to keep her balance as his fingers traced tickling circles on the thin skin stretched over her clavicle. He was leaning closer to her, close enough that she could tell that he had also popped a mint while in the ‘loo.’ _This guy was trouble._

“I need to go,” she said, though her fingers flexed on his hips. He stepped into it. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“I haven’t even gotten to dance with you yet,” he crooned, his lips brushing against the hair at her temple.

_Oh, she was really going to regret this._

“I know, but--ohh…” He slipped the glasses from off of her head, causing her bangs to fall heavily against her forehead. With one hand he brushed her bangs into order, the other clipping the earpiece of her glasses to hang over the low plunge of her blouses’ neckline. The intimate caress of his fingers in her hair and the even more intimate brush of her glasses between her breasts roused her from the thrall he was spinning.

She sighed heavily and opened her eyes. Her gaze was drowsy as it met his.

“I’m really sorry. I do have to go. The bachelorette party left without me, like, half an hour ago.”

“Ah,” he said, straightening. “I’d forgotten about them…”

“Yeah, me, too,” she said, her disappointment thick in her words. “Um, thanks. For all the help. With the list.”

Her hands were still on his hips and his fingers were still absently brushing at her hair.

“Right. The list. Can’t very well win if you ditch the party.”

She let go first, stepping back. “I work with the bride. It wouldn’t be nice if I just disappeared. I have to see her on Monday.”

“Right, you’re right.” He was still softly pushing at her hair, tucking and untucking it behind her ear.

“Jesus tonight was fun, though. I mean, seriously! I’ve never--”

“I know, me, too! Me, too.” He smiled. “You saved my night. You are really something.”

_She was in such big trouble._

“Would it be alright if I split a cab with you?” he asked, hand finally falling from her hair. They’d been touching all night and the absence of contact suddenly overwhelmed her.

“You’re--you want to come to the Phoenix with me?” She chewed at her lip again, punishing that stupid grin that threatened when she least expected it.

“Oh--well. Yes, more than anything. I’ve wanted nothing more than to dance with you since you just hopped on my back outside. But I--well. I’ve really been lucky so far, not being recognized. Especially with our little show behind the bar. I'll probably turn in for the night. I shouldn't tempt fate any more than I have already.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” She shouldn’t have felt so terribly disappointed.

“But--if you could stand a few more minutes with me, I’d like to see you to your next destination.”

She grinned stupidly anyway. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m going to pop over to thank Steve again, if you'll to call a cab?” He was fighting a stupid grin, too.

“Meet you out front.”

She was already in the cab by the time he ran out the front door.

“Sorry, it took Steve a little bit to find these.” He passed her a handful of matchbooks, each marked with the Central Station Inc. logo. He handed her the list as well, which he looked over. Everything was checked, except for two items in the middle.

_**Matchbook from a bar.** _

Toni smiled as she checked that off.

_**A guy’s phone number. Bonus points if it is written on the matchbook.** _

As slyly as possible, Toni looked over the matchbooks in her hands. They were the wide variety and the cardboard sleeve was mostly white. And blank.

_Oh._ It was hard to not feel acute rejection at Tom pointedly not giving her his phone number. The cab ride, which she had been looking forward to, suddenly felt stilted and awkward. She quietly tucked the list back into her purse.

“Look, ah, Toni.” He was playing with the loose neck of his button down, toying with the tip of the white lapel. “I’m only in town for the rest of filming...not long. I’d love to see you again. But.”

Toni flapped her hand at him. “Oh stop, stop. I get it.” She smiled, though not her best of the night. “I can probably talk a guy into giving me at least a fake number at the Phoenix… It’s cool.”

And they were quiet.

After a moment, Toni kicked off her heels, groaning obscenely at the wiggling freedom of her toes. Tom suddenly leaned across the cab, grabbed her ankle, and pulled her foot into his lap. She fumbled and slid a bit on the seat, laying almost on her back, surprised.

He was rubbing her feet.

“Ew, no! Don’t touch my feet! I’ve been walking all night.”

“Exactly,” he answered with an exceptionally hard knead into her arch.

“They’re probably all sweaty and gross.”

He continued, ignoring her. “I’ve worked in live theatre, darling. You don’t know the meaning of gross until you peel off a starched collar at the end of five acts.”

It did feel really good.

“Fair enough.”

She leaned back against her door and fought the inclination to close her eyes again.

“So, Toni? That’s a cute name.”

“Mmmm. Thanks. It’s short for Tonae.”

He paused at that. “I’m sorry, Tone-- can you say that again?”

“Seriously, Toni is fine. Tonae is too hard to say.”

He shook his head. “Tone-eye-ehh? Is that right?”

“Close, but really, I’m fine with Toni.” She moved her foot as if to pull it from his lap, but he tightened his grip and began to knead at her heel. She groaned.

“Why?”

“Why am I fine with Toni?”

“Yes, when Tonae is so lovely.”

“You said Toni was cute!” she deflected.

“It is. But Tonae sounds like the rhythm of a song. It shapes the mouth so beautifully, moves the voice to tonal caresses ‘Toni’ just doesn’t possess. Am I saying it correctly?” He spoke more loudly, his voice deepening. “Tonae.”

It sounded like heaven from his lips. _Who talked like that?_

“Close. You stress the middle syllable more.”

“Like an amphibrach?” he asked, brows set in serious concentration.

“A what?”

“A amphibrach. It’s the name of a foot in meter. An unstressed syllable, stressed, unstressed. It’s poetry.”

“Oh.” She looked down at his tie she forgot she had been wearing, feeling dumb. He switched feet.

“Like your name is poetry,” he added. “Tonae.”

Her heart felt fluttery and her breath was coming in shallow swallows. She was not quite embarrassed by all this, but no one spoke her name with that sort of reverence. Maybe it was worth pissing off Amy and seeing if she couldn’t just ride the cab all the way to Tom’s bed. But, no, he hadn’t given her his number. He would likely not invite her to bed if he couldn’t extend even that.

“What makes a word beautiful is the work and care it requires of the speaker,” he continued in a low murmur. Lifting her foot from his lap, he placed a small kiss on the delicate bone of her ankle. “‘Tonae’ demands much care of its speaker, and so should you. Make people work to name you beautiful.”

It felt like a dream, his words against the skin of her ankle. His eyes, a color she didn’t know the name of in the dark. She bent her knee, his hand still clasped around her ankle, and drew him to her. His hands made heavy steps on the seat of the cab as he almost crawled over her body, then lowered himself to her. Her back arched just so and his lips brushed her chin.

The cab came to a huge stop, throwing Tom almost to the floor.

“This is your stop, ma’am.”

Tonae scrambled upright, grabbing her purse and shoes from the floor of the cab.

She jumped from the cab, not looking at Tom as she handed a wad of bills to the driver. She heard him make a noise of protest, but she didn’t want to let him, the guy who would seduce her ( _twice!_ ) just to deny her a second meeting, to pay for her cab.

She made her way around the sedan, barefoot, and was almost to the sidewalk leading to the club when she heard a little _pop_ noise behind her.

Tom was holding a lit match, still attached to the book, out his open window.

“Don’t forget this.”

He was making her smile again, embarrassed as she was. She reached for the small flame, her shoes clutched to her chest. She looked to Tom, his face set and serious.

“Careful, Tonae,” he said as she took the matchbook from him, brushing his fingers more than strictly necessary. “That number isn’t fake.”

She shook out the match as the cab drove away, glancing at the scrawled numbers. She tucked the matchbook into her pocket, not willing to hand it over to whoever the judges of the scavenger hunt were.

Tonae would just leave that item unchecked.

 

 

****  
  
  
  


 

 

****  
  



End file.
